Whiskey Cowboy
by Blindy
Summary: After the CB Movie, Faye's having trouble getting to sleep and Spike tries to figure out why. Twothirds of a bottle of whiskey later, they end up learning a lot more about each other than they'd imagined. Hinting at SxF, sweet fluff.


Disclaimer: Cowboy Bebop is not mine. It never will be. If it was mine, Spike would be real and snuggling next to me right now. Alas. It is not to be.

Author's Note: I'd like to extend my thanks to my good friend mariamcardoso for helping me with this one and giving out some great ideas and advice. THANK YOU!!! She's awesome. Go check out her page now. Also, check out the fic that me and her are working on together; it's another Cowboy Bebop fic called Deja Vu. It's pretty chill, guys. Anyway...this fic here takes place after the Cowboy Bebop movie, and focuses around Faye and her encounter with Vincent. It's vaguely SxF. Hope you like. As always, I must ask you all to REVIEW!!! Thank you!

Whiskey Cowboy

Faye cursed under her breath. "Fucking _pig_..."

A scowl lit her brow, and she brushed her hair away from her face. She was mad. No, she corrected herself, she was pissed. Super pissed.

And scared.

"Fuck."

The dim light from the living room seeped through the crack in her door. She could see the ceiling, barely illuminated, pale and dull. She took a deep breath and ran a hand through her hair.

"I need a drink," she muttered to herself, swinging her legs over and onto the floor. Her knee cracked as she stood, a reminiscence of an old fight. A fight she had with herself every night. Every night since...

"Vincent..."

Her voice trailed off into the darkness, and she shook her head and stood, making her way out the door. She padded into the kitchen, not so quietly that it would make any of her crew members think someone was sneaking around and not loudly enough to make them suspicious.

Once she reached the kitchen, she flipped the light on and went straight for the cupboard above the fridge. A large pipe ran though it, with empty trash bags and random tools stuffed around it. Her slender hand reached through the clutter, finally coming to rest on a hard, long object in the back. She grabbed it and the sound of liquid swished through her ears.

The last liquor bottle.

The _emergency_ liquor bottle.

Pulling it out, she shut the cupboard quietly and went to get a glass from the sink. She rinsed it out and sat down at the table, her chin resting in one hand as she poured the amber liquid into the glass. Faye glanced at the bottle and found herself remotely pleased as she noted that the bottle was at least two thirds full. She stood once more and made her way back to the fridge to pull out the ice tray and crack a few cubes free. She dropped them into the glass and relished for a moment in the way they plopped into the liquid and bounced off the glass.

_Clink_.

She made an invisible toast. _To the powers that be,_ she thought, scowling, and raised the glass to her lips...

"Room for one more?" a drawling voice asked, "Or is this a private party?"

Faye sighed and answered without looking up. "It's never a private party on this ship."

Spike raised an eyebrow and pulled a glass out of the sink, swishing it out with water as Faye had not a minute before. From the freezer, he pulled out the ice tray and prepared his glass.

Faye eyed him suspiciously as he did this. Thus far, he'd had no malicious comments to throw at her.

He sat down at the table across from her and raised his glass in a silent toast. Her only response was a nod as she lit a cigarette. Spike followed suit and soon the two were smoking in silence.

As the smoke drifted up between them, Faye gave an inward sigh at her bad luck. The only time she'd ever needed to be alone and the lunkhead had come moseying on up to shatter her thoughts.

Fucking cowboy.

She broke the silence at last. "Yet another insomnia party aboard the Bebop."

He grunted. "Yeah."

Faye rolled her eyes internally. "You're a sucky party crasher, you know."

"Oh?" his bored voice drawled, "How d'ya figure?"

Faye shrugged and took another sip from her glass. "Crashers aren't usually this quiet."

He took another lazy puff from his cigarette and watched entranced as the smoke floated up toward the ceiling. "Yeah, well, this party isn't much to crash." He downed his drink and poured himself another one. "So, where were you for those couple of days when me and Jet were running around after Vincent?"

Faye blinked in surprise, hid it by putting the cigarette to her lips. She realized that there was nothing left, that she was just smoking filter. She took a drag anyway and put the cigarette out in the ashtray on the table. "I was busy." A funnel of smoke blew out of her small red mouth.

"You've been up every night since you got back."

She snorted. "Why do you care about my sleeping habits? Don't you have bounties to catch?"

"You're tired, unfocused. It could put us into jeopardy if one of the team is like that while we're after a bounty." He twirled the whiskey around in his glass. "You're awake all night, you nap during the day. On the couch. My couch."

Faye made a face as she downed her drink. "Since when are we a team?"

Spike shook his head and pulled another cigarette out of the smashed pack in his pocket. "No matter how unorganized we are, we're a team. Like it or not."

Faye raised an eyebrow. "Since when do you talk like that? All serious. No snarky remark to throw at me?" She raised the glass to her lips once again and smirked. "You're losing your touch, cowboy."

Spike shrugged and lit his cigarette. "We're deviating from the subject. What happened to you that made you all...well...whatever you are?"

Faye rolled her eyes and sighed. "Once again, I fail to see what importance this holds to you."

Spike met her eyes through the cigarette smoke enclosing the space between them. His gaze was firm, unwavering. "If you can't get your head straight again, then you either need to give us an explanation or get off the ship."

Faye directed an angry look at him. "It's not _your_ ship."

"I've already spoken to Jet. He agrees. You've been fucking up a lot more than usual lately."

Faye placed her glass on the table with a clank. "Fine."

Spike made no move, merely stared at her, waiting.

Faye began in an angry voice. "I went after Vincent. As I walked in, that other guy we were after, Lee Samson, was dying. There were nano-machines in the air. Vincent caught me and held me hostage. After a while, I managed to escape – Vincent killed some kid in the apartment." Faye's voice sounded bored at this point. "After he was gone, I rolled over until I could reach the knife in the kid's back. I cut my ropes, got to my ship, and called Jet. That's what happened." Faye's tone was rather monotonous. She was giving a away as little as possible.

Spike swirled his glass around, staring at the table. "Why didn't you die?"

Faye's head jerked back in surprise and she narrowed her eyes at her own stupidity. Of course. Spike glanced up at her, evaluating her reaction.

"You had contact with him." It wasn't a question.

Faye stood up with her glass and ran her fingers through her hair. "So, what if I did? It's not like I really had a choice now, was it?" She made her way into the living room, her bare feet padding lightly on the floor.

Spike remained frozen for a while and then slowly stood, following her into the living room. He was not going to let this go. He was curious and he wasn't sure why. That bugged him. Could it be that he actually felt a little compassion for the shrew? He shrugged the thought off. No. It was for the safety of the crew. He shook his head. No, he thought, I couldn't even say _that_ with a straight face.

Once in the living room, he found Faye stretched out on the couch, laying on her back and staring at the ceiling. Spike frowned.

"You're doing it again."

"What?" came an irritated voice.

"You're in my seat."

A sigh. "It's _not_ your seat."

"Yes, it _is_."

"Get a new seat."

"No. I want _that _one." Spike's voice was slowly increasing in volume and Faye sighed internally. She would not move. He would just have to deal.

"No." Her voice was firm, her tone tart.

"Fine."

Next thing she knew, she was being pushed back into the couch as Spike stretched his tall frame across it. Her eyes were level with the bottom of his legs, her toes just above the top of his head.

"What are you doing?" she asked him.

"Just taking back what's mine." He propped his head up and took a sip of his whiskey. Faye followed suit, and they simultaneously pulled out their rather squashed cigarettes and lit up.

Faye closed her eyes. The heat radiating off of Spike's body was actually rather comforting. She brushed the thought off as soon as it entered her mind. Spike, _comforting_? No way in hell. Not that lunkhead.

Spike shifted beside her, settling into a more comfortable position. It was strange, laying next to the shrew like this. No hostile words were being exchanged – for once she was actually being quiet. In fact, if he thought about it, he was actually pretty comfortable laying next to her.

After a few moments, Faye's head nodded and she began to drift. She was dreaming but half awake at the same time. Images flashed before her eyes as she sank further down into oblivion. A young girl flashing her pom-poms at a camera; the same girl waving her fist at a certain green-haired man; the Redtail, blasting off into space; butterflies...countless butterflies; a cough, a sputter, and a man behind her, forcing her onto a table and...

"Faye!"

Faye sat up. A searing pain began to spread through her finger and, looking down, she saw that the cigarette was scorching her fingers, burnt right down to the filter. She shook it off and onto the floor, where she stomped on it and watched as the last strands of smoke flitted upward as if gasping for air.

Looking around she saw the familiar scenery that only the Bebop could provide to her, and Spike, looking oddly concerned.

Concerned my ass, Faye thought scathingly. "What are you looking at?"

Spike gaped. "Huh?"

"Fucking pervert."

Spike raised an eyebrow and his look of concern quickly changed to nonchalance. "Well, excuse me for worrying that you might burn a hole in the couch with your stupid cigarette."

Faye launched herself to her feet and reached for her pack of cigarettes. "Fine. I'm going outside where I can do no further damage to your precious yellow environment." She grabbed her glass which was still half full and marched out onto the deck without another backward glance.

Spike sighed and went into the kitchen to pour himself some more whiskey. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his pack of cigarettes...

"Fuck."

There were none left. The only person who had any was...

"Faye..."

Spike grabbed the whiskey bottle and his glass and marched out to the deck. Faye was there, sitting on the ground with her back against the ship wall, sipping the last of the whiskey out of her glass and lighting up a cigarette.

Spike stood in front of her. "I'm out of cigarettes."

She looked at him, eyebrows raised, smirk stretching across her lips. "Since when is this my problem?"

Spike brought the whiskey bottle out from behind his back and returned her smirk with one of his own. "Since you finished off that last glass."

Faye closed her eyes and rested her head against the wall behind her with a soft clank. Without opening her eyes, she pulled the cigarettes out of her pocket and offered one to Spike, who took it and lit it in silence. He sat down beside her and opened the bottle, filling up Faye's glass until just below the rim.

As he lit up, he spoke. "So, Faye. When are you going to tell me about Vincent?"

Faye shifted and sighed. "Why am I the only one who has to give out information? I'll make you a deal – if you answer my questions, I'll answer yours."

Spike rolled his eyes. "Just like a little kid. Always wanting something in return."

"Take it or leave it, cowboy."

Spike shrugged. "Fine. Whatever."

Silence reigned over the deck for a moment while Faye thought. Spike almost thought that she'd fallen asleep again when she spoke.

"How'd you meet Jet?"

Spike was surprised that she'd picked such an easy question. "I was on Venus, leaving a bar when I saw a fight break out. I was bored, ready for action, so I jumped in and picked a side. After a while it was pretty clear that these syndicate guys were out after the guy I was siding with. And I hate syndicate guys. There were five of them, and I helped this guy take care of them. When we were done, he was pissed. Said he could have handled it himself. So I knocked him flat on his back and left."

Spike took another drag of his cigarette and continued. "A week later on Mars, I was after a bounty when my ship crashed. The other guy chasing after the bounty stopped to help me out. Turned out it was the same guy from the fight. I was kind of banged up so he took me back to his ship and helped me out, fixed my ship. He was a little mad to see who I was but he got over it. Complimented me on my fighting style. I told him he was a good pilot. We teamed up. Together ever since."

He picked up his glass and took another swig before placing it on the deck again and nodding Faye's direction. "Your turn. How long were you at Vincent's place? How did you get caught?"

Faye lit a cigarette. "I was there for two days, I think. I remember there was this table in the middle of the room. I think it was where he played Chinese checkers, except it was with those...things...like the one Ed found in the vase. Samson was in the room the whole time, dead. When I walked in the room the first time, I watched Samson die and then I started to feel the effects of the nano-machines. I heard a noise behind me and shot at it, but I only grazed Vincent's hand." Faye took another puff and flicked her cigarette ash into the empty can sitting next to her. "He grabbed me and pushed me against the table. He licked the blood from his hand. Then he kissed me."

Faye took another sip of whiskey and another puff of her cigarette, blowing the smoke out in a funnel that began winding up toward the sky. "Your turn." She paused to think. "How'd you get involved in the Syndicate? What made you leave?"

"That's two questions. You're only supposed to ask one."

"You asked two."

Spike raised an eyebrow. "Fine. My father was a member before I was born. He took me there one day when I was about ten years old and introduced me to the leader back then. I began running errands and they began to like me. They started to train me. After my parents died years later, I became full time. One of the best." He paused and looked up at the sky. "The reason I left? I was tired. You get tired after a while. Always dodging something, someone. The job of Grim Reaper was something I decided was best suited to someone else. Not me." He puffed idly at his cigarette before putting it out in the coffee can between them. "Then what did he do to you?"

Faye shrugged, refusing to meet his eyes. "He told me his plans and left. Then I escaped." She emptied her glass with a swallow and filled it again, extending her arm to fill Spike's glass as well.

Spike nodded in acknowledgment and the two sipped in silence.

"It was that bad, huh?" Spike's voice was surprisingly soft but it sliced through the air like a knife.

Faye shrugged. "That was two questions." She paused. "It could have been worse." She smiled. "We're still playing, you know." When Spike nodded, she continued. "How old were you when you lost your virginity?"

He snorted. "Fourteeen. You?"

Now it was Faye's turn to scoff. "I don't remember. You know that. What was your first girlfriend like?"

Spike smirked. "She was...well, she was different. Beautiful. My mom used to have to drag me away from her house. It was kind of pathetic, being ordered around by your mother in front of your girlfriend. She was...aggressive. It was fun. At first we'd just make out. It was like, 'Oh, a kiss. How bad ass is that?'"

Faye smiled to herself. "I know the feeling."

"Your turn. How much are you actually in debt?"

Faye's smile faded and she drank from her glass before answering. "Somewhere between three hundred and four hundred million woolongs. Add onto that the debt that Whitney left me and you've got quite a nice little chip on your shoulder. How many times do you wank a day?"

"How many tampons can you fit in at once?"

"Point taken." Faye leaned back with a smirk on her face. "Do you really think Ed's such a pain in the ass?"

"No. Are you still pissed about Ein ripping up your sweater?"

"Hell, yeah." Faye yawned. "You really like this ship, don't you? Crew and all."

Spike sighed and nodded, looking straight ahead. "You bet. You?" He turned his head to look at Faye. She looked strangely serene in the moonlight.

She nodded. "Yeah. I do."

Spike raised his glass to her and she copied the motion. They both drank, looking each other in the eye without blinking. They didn't lower their glasses until there was nothing left.

"What did he really do to you, Faye?"

Faye stared straight ahead. "You know the answer to that without asking."

Spike nodded and sat, head bowed in silence. He lit up another smoke and Faye followed suit. They smoked in silence for a moment.

"Still in love with Julia?" Faye's soft voice inquired.

Spike blinked and hesitated before answering. "Not so much with her as the idea of her." He stood and stared off into the night for a moment, then rested his hand on Faye's cheek, an oddly comforting and out of character move from him. "Good game, but I'm gonna get some sleep. We have a lot of work to do tomorrow. G'night." He strode off and waved a hand back at her.

Faye sighed and collected her thoughts before rising to her feet and entering the Bebop again. Once inside, she shut the door quietly behind her and made her way to her room, where she laid down on the bed, her mind slowly shutting down.

Hm, she thought. The lunkhead's not really that bad. Kind of human...

Faye drifted into a restless sleep. Her thoughts were scrambled, dipping up and down on a sea of uncertainty. Faces swirled through her mind...Ed and Ein eating noodles...Jet snipping at his Bonsai...Spike asleep on the couch...a table and chairs...Chinese checkers...blue marbles clanking onto the floor...a hard, rough kiss, and blood streaking down her cheek...

Faye sat up abruptly for the second time that night.

"Shit."

As she placed her feet on the cold hard floor, her door cracked open and a figure moved inside.

"Lay down," came a hushed voice.

Faye raised her eyebrows at hearing Spike's voice. "What for?"

"It's obvious you can't sleep alone. And until you go to sleep, I get no sleep. I hear every noise you make on the ship. So just lay down and go to sleep." His dark figure moved to the edge of her bed and sat, waiting for her to follow instructions. After a moment of hesitation, she did.

Both of them lay together staring at the ceiling, neither one touching the other. Spike heard Faye's breathing even out and soon he could tell she was asleep.

Exhausted, he thought.

She moved suddenly, mumbled and rolled over toward him. The position she ended up in left him to choose between falling off the bed or embracing her. Tentatively, he chose the second option. No need to wake the beast, he thought.

With his arms around her and her back pressed into his stomach, she began to breathe peacefully again.

"Thank you..." she mumbled, half asleep and not really aware of what was happening.

Spike waited until she was fully asleep again before replying. "No need to thank me," he whispered softly, closing his eyes. "Just as long as you stay off my couch."


End file.
